“Red and blue lights, bright as daylight, shot through the curtains. It was bad enough that it was as late as it was. I never thought I’d get to sleep!” Sharon sipped her café latte with the tiniest pink stuff sprinkled on top. The café was nice enough. A little quiet for southern California, but for Sharon? It was perfect. Sunshine. Blue skies. The waves crashing on the shoreline and the smell of the Pacific Ocean. Nothing is better than the 80 degree days, a gentle breeze, and no allergies from the insecticides. Summer corn harvesting was underway. Other farmers were spraying their soybeans and rice.

“What the heck? You don’t live in a city. It’s a small, sleepy town in southern Kansas. It’s not like you’re living in North Hollywood. Vassar is almost off-grid. It’s so far from literally everything.” Sharon’s friend Crystal wasn’t wrong. Vassar was small, population of less than 600 people. Topeka was just shy of an hour north. Kansas City, the largest city to Vassar, was more like 90 minutes, which worked for Sharon. When visiting her college roommate in southern California, she hated traffic. She was more than a little grateful for Uber, Lyft, and other driver-for-hire services. Not that Sharon paid for anything. Crystal was more than a little generous.

The café Crystal took Sharon to was a bit out of the way, a nice walk for both friends to catch up, not that they weren’t on the phone often enough. Crystal had a tough time adjusting to college life, which is how the two women came to know each other. Sharon was familiar with the campus, living an hour away, making it easier to adjust to being away from home, even though she wasn’t. Crystal, living roughly 1500 miles away, couldn’t hop a flight every weekend to go home to Newport Beach, California. Even though she came from money, her parents wouldn’t let her blow through $20,000 a year in airfare. Daddy might have been able to get the cost down with his airline points, but he wasn’t about to make it easy for her to quit school. Crystal’s father, Gerald, was a CEO of PHC Electronics, relatively unknown in the United States but a force to be reckoned with in fourteen other countries, including the United Kingdom, Germany, and Iceland. Other children her age played with Barbies, Cabbage Patch Dolls, and Teddy Ruxspin. Crystal took dance lessons and learned how to ice skate in Iceland. She rode horses anytime she wanted, within reason, and read classic books. Moby Dick. War and Peace. Every work of Shakespeare and Chaucer. She learned the value and importance of buying only the best and spending money on crystal, diamonds, gold, silver, etc. Elaine, her mother, taught her fashion and art, reminding her it may be subjective in both areas. But her taste? It was priceless, more valuable than the price tag someone put on it. Both parents constantly reminded her of her importance to their family and the world. But regardless of the extreme wealth, neither parent forgot to teach Crystal to be kind, compassionate, and love others. Gerald and Elaine Barton wanted nothing but the best for their daughter – then she picked a small school, the University of Kansas, as her alma mater.

“That’s got to be a little scary, though, right?” Crystal, still waiting on her coffee, continued the conversation with her friend. “Police all over your neighborhood. Yikes! I can’t even imagine.” Crystal pointed at Sharon’s coffee. “It’s good, yeah?”

Sharon nodded, smiling back. “A little. But when you’ve done nothing wrong, there is literally no reason to be afraid.”

“You obviously haven’t spent enough time in central California. You weren’t here during the Rodney King riots.”

Sharon gave her friend a funny look. “You weren’t anywhere close to the riots. Newport Beach is over here, on the coast. The riots took place in Los Angeles, didn’t they?” Sharon’s degree in accounting and her CPA degree meant she wasn’t good with numbers only but with dates and locations. She knew exactly where some random news story occurred; be it an obscure village in the U.K., the tiniest street in Paris, or a random spot in the middle of a California desert. Calculating things was in her blood, like it or not. “Do you wish you were a part of all that mess?” For Sharon, seeing the riots unfold on television was like watching the O.J. Simpson chase; upsetting and scary. But she never once pretended to want to be close to something that dangerous.

“Don’t be silly, Sharon. I’m just saying that California, for all the nice areas, can be more than a little dangerous. Especially if you are . . .” she trailed off, the server setting her long overdue French Press on the table, along with a fine, delicately printed Chinese print coffee cup. “Thank you, Maddy.” The server bowed politely, answering, “My pleasure, Ms. Barton.” “Oh, Maddy, this is my best friend in the whole wide world, Sharon. Sharon? This is Maddy. She’s Leia’s daughter.”

Sharon blinked a few times, smiling more than necessary. “Of course! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maddy.”

Maddy smiled. “Likewise, Ms.?”

“Ms.? Call me Sharon, Maddy.” Maddy’s smile turned to a slight chuckle. “Of course, Sharon. Thank you, Ms. Barton.”

“Maddy, is that boy you’ve been seeing decided to ask for your hand yet?”

“No,” Maddy blushed. “Not yet.”

“Well, he better! He’s quite a catch.”

“Thank you.” Maddy walked away a little lighter like she was dancing. “She’s a sweet girl.” Crystal winked at Sharon. “Now, how late were you up that night, anyway?”